Once Upon a Dream
by almond hero
Summary: Mr. Gold and Belle retreat into a daydream.  Set in Storybrooke. Rumbelle


**Once Upon a Dream**

_No one would believe her when the nurse had whispered that the crazy girl in the psych ward would dance from time to time. Alone, with no partner, no music, just her bare feet, treating her hospital dress as a ball grown, and her footsteps following the rhythm of an unknown tune. _

* * *

><p>Dancing. They were <em>dancing<em>.

Mr. Gold was not sure as to when the music had started playing. He had been cleaning out a glass case of candlesticks and odd clocks when it had started playing out of thin air. He stood up and looked around the shop. Everything was still, entirely frozen in place. It was only when he looked down that he realized he hadn't used his cane to stand up.

He remembered Belle- twisting, tracing a rose delicately around the contours of her face, tickling the tip of her nose, smiling and talking about the latest book she had read. In fact, she had it draped across her lap. He remembered. She was reading it _to _him.

Mr. Gold closed his eyes and took her by the hand. She placed the book aside and joined him.

He bowed.

She curtsied.

Mr. Gold laughed slightly when Belle told him he was _ever_ the gentleman.

_Because most gentlemen steal women away to become cleaning ladies in their home, _he'd reply.

_Details. _Belle smiled back at him again and brought her hand to his shoulder. Softly, _always softly_.

Mr. Gold found himself forming his arms around her figure.

And they _danced_.

Mr. Gold wasn't a clumsy dancer, but Belle always had a way of leading him, even if he didn't say so, even if he protested, he had truthfully wanted her to lead. He was always so calculating, so unsure of himself around her. And she made him sure. She would let him know.

He took a step back.

She stepped forward. Together, they swayed to the right and soon enough, waltzing in perfect three-step circles. Mr. Gold held her hand tightly. The music slowed. Just a few little notes were left tiptoeing in the air, twinkling like lost stars. Belle pulled herself closer to him. His hands were trembling and Mr. Gold could feel himself stifling tiny sobs from the memory. _Memory._

That's all this was, a memory, a tender little daydream he'd retreated into.

He couldn't bear to bring himself to open his eyes, to wake up, and all he could feel was the image of Belle looking up at him, her eyes closed forming same expression she had after she had dozed off during a story.

And somewhere, somehow, she was dreaming too. _Wrapped up in that same black magic of memory-_

* * *

><p><em>All the way from her dungeon under the earth, a lost girl heard the music. She had been crouched in the corner, burying her face from the terrible window light when the notes had reached her ears. She reached out to a figure holding a hand out to her and she was gone. The walls of her cells disappeared and she was somewhere else entirely. She wasn't lost anymore and the light wasn't scary either. She could hold her head high again, step into life as if it were a pair of shoes she had left unattended in the corner somewhere- and those shoes led her home… <em>

_The nurse observed this behavior. The girl in the psych ward would dance with an imaginary partner, holding the ends of her hospital gown and waltzing about the room. Soon enough she would hear the music stop and everything would fade. The girl would retreat to her corner again and wilt, muttering about teacups and fetching straw. _

_The death of Spring- she would hate the sunlight again, the petals of her dress would fall off, and all the magic would be gone. She'd be a lost girl again, with no place to call home- nowhere to plant her dreams and grow roots again. The walls around her kept out love and hope and home. It cut out everything. Until then the girl under the earth would unknowingly wait for spring, for the next song to play._

* * *

><p>In this moment Mr. Gold and Belle were dancing again, frozen in time, and chained to a memory. The music lifted itself again. Mr. Gold twirled her and she landed right into his chest. Belle held him close and he rested his chin on her shoulder, slowly swaying to the music.<p>

He never wanted to let her go.

"Mr. Gold there was something I wanted to talk…to you… about. " Emma Swan had entered through the doorway to witness the pawnbroker seemingly dancing to an unknown tune. "….Mr. Gold?"

"Can't you hear the music, dearie?"

"Music? What music?" Emma eyed him curiously.

Suddenly, the music stopped and he watched as his dreams died.

Emma noticed his tortured expression give away as he nearly came crashing to the floor as his leg gave away._ The pain was back._ He caught himself on the edge of the glass case.

Cold and driven to this sad conclusion, he spoke in a low voice, "I'm sorry, but we are closed today, Sheriff Swan."

Emma tried to see if he was alright but he gave her a reassuring gesture and motioned for her to go. She said nothing and silently left the antique shop and the air of springtime came through the door for a moment, the bell softly dancing as it came to a shut again and cut out everything.


End file.
